


Polishing

by WrenAndPoppy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Biting, F/M, Fenris goes down on Hawke x100, Fenris reclaiming his sexuality in a healthy way, Hair-pulling, Jembax AU, Overstimulation, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8790379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrenAndPoppy/pseuds/WrenAndPoppy
Summary: An encounter with slave traders left Hawke with an usual sort of scar: real jewels set in her skin, as sensitive as any other part of her.  She doesn’t know how or why it happened, and she’s never seen another person with jewels like that.  Until she mets Fenris.Warnings: Rough sex with biting, overstimulation, and hair pulling.  Vague implications of sexual abuse in Fenris’ past.





	

Blood slid like rivers across the elf’s arm.  It trickled between the silver lines that crossed his dark skin and blotted across the shimmering white moonstones that studded those white lines, darkening them like a lunar eclipse.

Hawke’s stunned eyes met the elf’s level gaze.  She watched blood drip from his armored fingers, trying to fathom what she was seeing.  The pale lines that crossed the elf’s skin were odd enough, but what she couldn’t look away from where the glimmering moonstones, set into his flesh as though they were a part of him.

The elf with the jewels in his skin had just put his arm through a warrior’s chest like a knife through butter.

The milky stones flashed with blue fire even after the pale white lines had gone dim, as though the terrifying power he wielded was always boiling just below the surface.  The elf stalked towards Hawke’s party with the caution of a hunted animal.

“I apologize,” the elf began, as though a dead man did not lie behind him.  He stopped several feet away, out of range of a sword slash, as though he feared it might come to that.  “When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they’d be so… numerous.”

Hawke blinked at him.

“I suspect you have some questions for me,” the elf grunted.

“‘Some’ might not cover it,” Hawke blurted.  She took a step closer, and the elf stepped back.  “Those jewels on your body.  How did you get them?”

The man bared his teeth, and the lines on his skin flashed.  “That is not among the questions I am willing to answer.”

Hawke brushed her dark hair aside, exposing her forehead.  The elf’s green eyes widened and the anger vanished from his face.  Hawke couldn’t have felt more exposed if she’d been naked, but she held his gaze.

Although she couldn’t see it, she knew that moonlight was flashing off the red ruby that was set in her forehead like a single drop of blood.

“Tell me how you got those jewels,” she murmured.  “Because I’ve got them too.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.  Fenris twitched, as though about to take a step towards her, but he pulled himself back.

“ … Now isn’t the time,” he said at last.  “If you’ll help me take care of something… we’ll talk.”

—-

The right time didn’t come until many nights later, when an unusual chill fell over Kirkwall.  Hawke wore a cloak to keep warm as she walked through Hightown’s streets to find the abandoned mansion that had once housed Fenris’ former master.  Now it housed only scorch marks and broken finery and Fenris.   _And memories, no doubt_ , Hawke thought as she stepped into it.

“Fenris?” she called as she stepped into the main hall.  It was cold and dark, none of the braziers lit.  Hawke scoffed as she looked the place over.  She hadn’t known Fenris for terribly long, but already she wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t bothered to clean the bloodstains off the floor.  “I would say I love what you’ve done with the place, but… I really don’t.”

“Just come to the wine room,” a familiar voice called through the echoing mansion.  “There’s a fire in here.”

Hawke followed his voice through the stone halls.  The wine room was small, the back wall lined with racks of bottles, and it crackled with heat from the fireplace.  Fenris slouched in a padded chair, staring into the fire thoughtfully.  The more spiky parts of his armor were gone, but he still wore a reinforced leather shirt.  It left his arms bare, moonstones shimmering with blue crackles in the firelight.

The warmth from the fire drove out the chill of the night.  Hawke shrugged out of her cloak.  The simple leather jerkin that she wore was cut lower than most of her shirts.  It covered her chest well, but the edge dipped just low enough to reveal the ruby between her collarbones.  It felt uncomfortable to have the jewel exposed, but she needed that tonight.  Hawke kept her head high as she pulled a chair up to the fire and sat down.

“You mentioned we could talk.”

Fenris examined his bare, toned arm, ghosting his fingers over the white lines and the moonstone studs without touching them.  “You want to know how I got mine?”  His gaze flashed up to her.  “Well, I want to know how you got yours.”

“I spent my first year in Kirkwall as a smuggler,” Hawke said bluntly.  She rolled her thumbs over each other, watching the movement of her own fingers so she wouldn’t stare at the shining moonstones on Fenris’ body.  “My family came to Kirkwall as refugees.  We had nothing, no coin or status to get us through the gates.  So we worked.  Smuggling was the best work we could find.”

Fenris crossed his arms over his chest with the finality of a castle gate shutting her out.  “And what did you smuggle?” he ground out.

Hawke’s gaze jumped to him sharply.  “ _Not_ slaves.  Never slaves.”  Her fidgeting grew more fervent.  “Yes, I did plenty of unsavory things, but I never sold another person.”

The tension in Fenris’ arms eased slightly.

“A job went bad once,” Hawke murmured.  She could still remember tasting sand when she was knocked to the ground.  “We were trying to steal from a rival group of smugglers, but my party got caught.  The other smugglers didn’t share our distaste for slave trading.”

Something like sympathy flashed across Fenris’ face.  “… You became part of their stock.”

“Briefly.”  Hawke straightened up.  “We escaped that night.  Needless to say, those smugglers don’t sell slaves any more.  Or draw breath.  But while they had me…”  Hawke lifted two fingers, pulling her hair aside to expose the ruby on her forehead.  “They gave me these.  It was some magic ritual, I don’t remember it.  To this day, I don’t know why.”

“To make you more valuable.”  Fenris’ answer came without hesitation.  “It’s a common practice in Tevinter.  Stud your personal slave with jewels as a display of wealth.  Selling you and the jewels separately would have bought those slavers some nice clothes and a week of good meals.  But selling you like _this_ could have bought them a castle.”

Hawke let her hair fall over her forehead again, the ruby hidden behind a soft dark veil.  “… Is that how you got yours?  From your former master?”

Fenris looked away.  “… Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched in the room.  Fenris didn’t uncross his arms or meet her eye.  Hawke shifted in her chair.

“Well, that was a cheerful talk,” she said brightly, giving him a smile.  “I don’t mean to keep you up, so I can show myself out if you like–”

“No, don’t.  Please.  It’s just…”  Fenris’ hands tightened on his arms.  “You’re the first person I’ve met who hasn’t asked to touch them.  I’m not used to it.”

Hawke’s hand flicked to her hair self-consciously, making sure it was covering the jewel on her forehead.

“Hawke?”

“Y-yes?”

Fenris’ voice was low, and he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers.  “You’re the first person I’ve met who I would allow to do so.”

Hawke froze.  Fenris looked serious.  Neither of them moved, but the distance between them suddenly felt very, very close.  Hawke couldn’t figure out if the remark had been a sexual advance or a display of trust; the two seemed blurred into one with Fenris.

Fenris looked away suddenly, coughing louder than was probably necessary.  “Uh, forgive me for this… I’ve never met another person with jewels before–”

“Please, ask me anything,” Hawke interrupted.  “I’ve never met anyone like this either, I’m desperate to talk about it.”

It was like the floodgates had opened.  

“How do you find clothing?” Fenris spilled out.  “I try to keep my jewels exposed as much as I can, but I have to cover some of them–”

“The clothing has to be tight, right?  Otherwise it feels–”

“ _Awful,”_ Fenris finished with a nervous laugh.

“And when a mage hits you with one of those electrical spells?  It sort of _vibrates_ in the stones and feels dreadful!”

“ _Ugh._ And if they touch bare metal–”

“They _click.”_

 _“_ Anything that touches them feels wrong.”

“Unless it’s your own hands, right?  That doesn’t feel the same.”

For the first time, Fenris hesitated.  A noise slipped out of him as though he had tried to respond but thought better of his words.

“It’s… different when it’s a person’s skin,” he agreed stiffly.  

Something in his voice made Hawke’s heart skip a beat.  She brushed her hair over her jewel self-consciously.

“Have you ever felt… someone _else_ touch them?”  Fenris lifted his hand to a jewel at his throat, hesitating, not quite touching it.  She could hear his breath.

“…No,” Hawke murmured.  “I’ve never let anyone.”

Fenris stood up suddenly, stalking across the room to pick up a bottle of wine.  He opened it, took a drink straight from the bottle, and held it out without a word.

Hawke stood up and crossed the room to take the bottle from him.  She peered at it curiously.  The label looked expensive.  She took a sip.  Tasted expensive, too, not that she would know.  She took another sip.

“They feel good when they’re touched, don’t they?” she asked, the wine heating her breath.  She handed the bottle back to him.

For the first time since she met him, Fenris gave Hawke a smile.  It was a little shy and a little cocky and it made her heart skip.

“More than _good._ ”  He took the wine bottle, his hand brushing hers.

The fireplace crackled.  The room felt warmer than it should.  Hawke hadn’t intended to stand this close to him, but here they were.

“If yours are anything like mine,” Fenris continued, “the touch of skin against them is… intimate.”

“You’re being very delicate with your words.”

“How would _you_ describe it?”

 _Sexual._ Hawke bit her lip, her heart suddenly thumping.  A fingertip brushing over one of her jewels was like a finger brushing between her legs, finding her clit through the leather of her pants and pressing.

Fenris’ gaze drifted to the jewel between her collarbones.  He lifted his hand as though he was going to reach towards her, but hesitated.  “… You don’t usually leave any of them exposed,” he murmured.  “Why now?”

Hawke swallowed.  “It’s a secret I’d like to keep hidden from Kirkwall, if I can.  But I don’t really need to hide them from you, do I?”

Fenris chuckled.  “No.  Your secret is safe.”  He frowned thoughtfully, his hand still half-lifted.  “Yours are different than mine.  Not just in color, but in placement.”  He reached towards her slowly, his lyrium-lined fingers hovering over the ruby on her chest without touching.  “I don’t have one here.”

His finger brushed her skin.  The ruby glinted red in the firelight, just a hair away, but he didn’t touch it.  Hawke’s heart pounded as he traced his finger in a slow circle around the jewel without ever taking his eyes off her.

 _He won’t do it,_ Hawke realized.  She wondered if he could feel her heart thumping beneath his fingertip.   _He won’t ask to touch, and he won’t touch without asking._

“I wonder,” Fenris murmured, “where else you have jewels that I don’t.”

A log in the fireplace crackled and snapped in half, crumbling into embers.  Fenris yanked his hand back suddenly, averting his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.  “I’m being–”

Hawke turned his face back towards her.  “Don’t apologize,” she insisted.  “Not unless you’re going to stop.”

A thin noise of need slipped out of Fenris before he grabbed a fistful of Hawke’s dark hair and yanked her into a searing kiss.

Hawke groaned against him, grabbing his strong arms, feeling the heat of the lyrium under her hands.  Fenris’ mouth opened against hers, hungry and willing.  When Hawke’s tongue met his, she could feel the _click_ of her ruby bumping against his moonstone, and her knees nearly gave out.  She could feel his powerful body shudder against her, hear him groan like he’d never felt anything so good.

Fenris pushed her back suddenly, panting.  His hands were shaking where they were braced on her shoulders.  “W-wait.”  He took a breath.  “This is– this is more than I intended for tonight.”

Hawke stepped back.  “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push–”

“Please don’t misunderstand,” Fenris interrupted.  “I want this.  I want you.  I wanted everything you did.  I just…”  He shuddered, running a hand through his hair.  “E-everything feels so intense.  I don’t think I’m ready.”

Hawke swallowed.  Her pulse was still racing, her lips and tongue tingling.  The mere memory of his tongue sliding over the jewel in her mouth was enough to make her knees weak.  “I… I understand that.”  Hawke took a breath and turned away from Fenris before it got any harder to resist touching him.  She grabbed her cloak and heading for the door.  “I’ll just see myself out.”

“Hawke.”

Hawke paused, turning towards him.

Fenris was staring into the fire, touching two fingers to his lips as though still tasting her kiss.  “ … I’d like to talk to you more,” he murmured.  

Hawke smiled.  She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and strode out of the wine room, towards the crispness of the night.

—-

The memory of Fenris’ kiss fluttered like a butterfly in Hawke’s chest.  Time passed and sometimes the pair of them talked over bottles of wine in the evenings, but they didn’t touch again.  Battles passed and Kirkwall changed.  Fenris pursued his own vendetta, and Hawke reclaimed her family’s estate.

One night, Hawke stepped into her room and found an elf waiting for her.

Hawke froze in the doorway.  There was already a fire crackling in her fireplace, and Fenris stood in the warm glow as though her room was where he belonged.

“Fenris?”  Hawke shut the door.  “What are you doing here?”

Fenris strode towards her so boldly that Hawke’s heart leapt into her throat.  He stood close enough that she could hear his breathing.

“I came here for you,” he replied.

Hawke swallowed.  She gave a nervous laugh.  “I h-have wine in the cellar–”

“Hawke, I came here for _you.”_

Each heartbeat felt drawn out.  Hawke couldn’t look away from Fenris’ eyes.

“ … If you wish me to leave, I will,” he murmured.  He lifted his hand, pressing one finger gently against her leather shirt, just below where he knew her jewel was.  “If you wish me to stay, I want to rip your clothes off.”

“Wait.”  Hawke locked her hand over his.  It was all she could do not to shove him to his knees.  “You said this was too much last time.  That it was too fast.”

Fenris let out a thin noise of need.  “I don’t care.  It’s always too much.  Everything is too much, and I’m tired of it.  I _want_ this.”  He leaned close to her again, so close they were sharing breath, not closing that last inch.  “Don’t be gentle.  Give me _everything.”_

Hawke’s fingertips dug into his arms as she yanked him into a ravenous kiss.  They stumbled towards the bed, already ripping at each other’s clothes.  Garments fell to the floor in a trail behind them.  Hawke wasn’t sure how she got her hands against the elf’s bare skin without pulling her lips and teeth away from his mouth, but she felt buttons and straps snapping off more than once.  

They collapsed onto the bed with a grunt, Hawke on top, their teeth clacking together before they both pulled back panting.  Fenris’ body was a muscled dream in the firelight, the pale moonstones and silver lyrium lines standing out against his darker skin.  The view was enough to stun Hawke into silence for a moment.  Fenris’ hair was a mess from her rough hands, his chest heaving.  A loose leather strap still hung over his shoulder from where she had ripped away the armor that had been attached to it.

“I wrecked your clothes,” Hawke panted.  A giddy laugh spilled out of her.  “I _completely_ wrecked your clothes.”

Fenris smirked.  He grabbed the leather straps of her bra, the only thing left covering her top.  “Let me return the favor.”

She could see the muscles on his arms flex for a moment as he snapped the soft leather.  He pulled away the torn remains, and Hawke’s chest spilled out into the firelight.  The pair of rubies that glittered above each nipple flashed as Fenris wrapped his hands around her breasts.

“… You are _stunning,”_ he murmured.

Hawke took his wrists, pressing his hands harder against her chest.  “I thought we agreed not to be gentle.”

Fenris sat up so they were face-to-face again, pressing his lips against hers.  His fingers locked around her nipples, squeezing the soft nubs of flesh and the jewels together, pinching hard.  Hawke let out a choked whine into his mouth, her hips jerking in his lap.  She could feel a hard ridge in his pants, pressing up against the heat of her pussy.  

Fenris bit her lip and scraped his teeth over it before softly growling, “Better?”

“I’ll be better when our pants are gone,” Hawke panted, wrapping her arms around him and diving back onto his lips.

Fenris’ back flexed under her touch as she kissed him.  She could feel the strength of a man who wielded a sword as as tall as himself, moving under her fingers.  Hawke ground her hips against his lap as she trailed her fingers down his back, tracing the lines of lyrium, feeling the smooth bumps of moonstones.  He groaned against her, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, teasing the rubies there until she was quivering in his lap.  Hawke broke the kiss to lock her lips against his sharp jaw, biting her way down his neck.

“Nnh, _yes_ –”  Fenris slid his hands off her chest, leaving her nipples tingling, and grabbed her ass instead.  He pulled her hips down hard against him, grinding her against the bulge in his pants.  “Hawke, _yes–”_

When Hawke’s teeth scraped down his neck, over the white lyrium lines, Fenris let out a noise that was half pain and half pleasure and his hands tightened on her ass.

“Harder,” he panted.

Hawke could feel his pulse racing under her teeth as she bit down.  Fenris groaned in her ear as he dragged her pants down, his hands grabbing and squeezing as they went.

“I’ll leave marks on you if you’ll leave marks on me,” Hawke promised against his neck.

Fenris bared his teeth and flipped her onto the mattress.  He was on top of her before she could take a breath.

“Deal,” he growled, leaning in and biting hard into her neck.

Fenris kept his promise: he left pink bite marks on her neck, trailing down her shoulder and pausing so he could suck a hungry kiss over the jewel between her collarbones.  Hawke’s back arched and her fingers dug into his shoulders, a sharp gasp spilling from her.  Fenris growled as he worked his way down her body, his hands wandering ahead of his mouth, grabbing her hips as he scraped his teeth over her nipple.

“Ah–”  Hawke grabbed a silvery handful of his hair.  “F-Fenris–!”

Fenris left both of her nipples slick and firm and flushed before he moved his teeth down her body.  He yanked down her pants as he kissed over her belly, dragging them down her thighs and leaving her slick pussy exposed to the firelight.  It was all Hawke could to to kick her pants off before Fenris was diving between her bare legs with a hungry groan and dragging his tongue over her.

“ _Aaah,_ yes–”

The smooth, pale jewel on Fenris’ tongue bumped against Hawke’s clit each time he licked her.  She could feel the rumble of him groaning, feel his hands leaving bruises where they dug into her thighs.  He pushed his tongue into her, swirled it around her clit, and dragged it up so that the moonstone _clicked_ against the ruby just above her pussy.

Hawke shouted and her legs kicked against the bed, her hands twisting in Fenris’ silver hair until he muffled a noise of pain against her.  With a guilty wince, Hawke loosened her grip.

“S-sorry, about that, bit of a reflex– ”

Fenris panted up at her, his tongue hanging out so she could see the moonstone flashing in the firelight.  She could feel his breath against her pussy.

“Pull harder.”

Hawke swallowed.  She twisted her fingers into his hair and shoved his face between her legs, shuddering as his tongue went back to work.  She yanked on his hair, and Fenris nearly snarled against her, his back flexing.  She could see his hips shift against the mattress, grinding himself against the silky sheets.  

“Mmmmh–!”

Panting, Hawke brushed aside Fenris’ pale hair, revealing three small moonstones on his forehead.  Fenris’ entire body shuddered when she rubbed her thumb over them.

“K-keep going,” she panted.  “Don’t stop–”

Fenris’ green gaze flicked up, locking on her face.  His tongue never stopped moving as he shifted on the mattress and slung his arm over her leg, reaching up her body and grabbing a handful of her breast.

Hawke’s gasp made her chest press up into his hand.  “A-ah–”

Fenris kept his eyes on her, his tongue buried in her pussy as he twisted her nipple between his fingers.  Hawke whined and squirmed, her fist shaking in his hair, but his powerful grip held her in place.

“F-Fenris–”

His tongue dragged over her again and again, the smooth moonstone pressing against her pussy.  Hawke twisted his hair, keeping his face shoved between her legs so that his muffled shouts of pain vibrated through her clit.

Hawke screamed herself hoarse as she came on his tongue.  Fenris growled against her and scraped his teeth over the ruby, making her spasm and gasp for air.  By the time Fenris pulled back, panting with obvious arousal, Hawke could barely see straight.

Shaking like a leaf, Hawke dragged her lover up until she could sink into a deep kiss.  The sweet slickness of her own pleasure was hot on Fenris’ tongue as it slid against hers.  Hawke fumbled with his pants and managed to slide them down just far enough that his arousal spilled out, bumping against her arm.  She wrapped her hand around it eagerly, and Fenris groaned into her mouth.

“Mmmh–”  He broke the kiss with a gasp when she squeezed.  “H-Hawke–”

Hawke kept one hand fisted in his hair as she stroked the other over his shaft, holding his gaze.  She could feel three bumps just below the head of his cock, three shimmering moonstones.  When her thumb rubbed over them, Fenris let out a noise through his teeth that was nearly a snarl.

“Nnn _nnh, Hawke –”_

Hawke wiped her thumb over the slickness that drooled from the head of his cock, smearing it over the shining moonstones.  “Does that feel good?”

“Bite me,” Fenris panted.

Hawke laughed breathlessly.  “Ouch, I was only asking.”

Fenris’ hips snapped forward, his cock sliding through her hand and bumping against the ruby above her clit.  Hawke yelped as an aftershock of pleasure jolted up her spine.

Pulling against her grip on his hair, Fenris ground out words.  “Bite.  Me.”

Hawke yanked the elf close and pressed her face into his neck, sinking her teeth into the white lyrium lines.  She could hear Fenris’ sharp gasp, feel his cock throb in her hand.  He grabbed her hip and thrust into her hand, his cock sliding over the jewel above her clit.  Hawke was shuddering as much as he was, groaning into his neck as she bit his skin and sucked hungry kisses over the moonstones that trailed up his throat.

“Ah–”  Fenris dug his fingertips into her hip and screamed.   _“Ahh-!”_

Hawke felt it first as a hot, wet splash against the ruby above her clit.  Then Fenris thrust, sliding through his own release and smearing it against her as his cock throbbed again, shooting another creamy white rope across her belly.  Hawke caught her breath against the teeth marks on his neck.

Finally, Fenris let out a long breath and rolled off her.  Hawke felt the mattress bounce as he collapsed beside her.  The scarlet canopy of the bed seemed to spin above them as she caught her breath.  Hawke brushed her hair out of her face with a dizzy laugh.

“Maker’s breath.  So _that’s_ how it feels to have someone else touch them.  I had no idea.”  She groped across the sheets until she found Fenris’ hand, winding her fingers through his.  “Tell me you’re as overwhelmed as I am.”

Fenris let out a long, satisfied breath.  His hand squeezed back.  “… It’s good to have it feel like this.  And have it end like this.  This feels right.”

Hawke frowned.  She rolled her head to the side.  “… I thought you had never–?”

“It doesn’t matter.”  Fenris leaned over her, smiling.  “This was perfect.  When I think about how this should feel, I’ll always think of you.”

His glowing smile was contagious.  Hawke tangled her hand in Fenris’ hair, softly this time, and pulled him into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, readers! Wren here! I wanted to make a little note about the type of AU this is. The concept of erogenous jewels being magically implanted in the skin is something that I came up with. I'm totally fine with other people playing around with the idea and writing their own stories with it, though I always appreciate credit and I'd love to see what you make!


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